


Choke

by luluren



Series: Choke and Breathe [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Bastogne, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:24:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6704458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luluren/pseuds/luluren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I won't let you choke, Doc."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choke

Gene stares down at Lieutenant Welsh, surprised he doesn't remember putting the tourniquet on his leg even though it happened less than five minutes ago. Time is blurry right now. 

Winters tells him to go back to town, get a hot meal, and the shame of knowing he's disappointed the man washes over him. 

It's a blur again, getting into the jeep, one hand on Welsh's shoulder and the words "You're gonna be ok" are on the tip of his tongue but they don't actually come out. It's like his mouth's been glued shut by some invisible caramel candy (just like his mom used to make at Christmas.) He looks back at Winters and finds it's Nixon staring at him instead, eyes dark under his helmet. They lock gazes until the jeep turns a corner. 

Coming to town was a bad idea, he thinks as he uses his upper body to shield Welsh from the debris raining down around them. The jeep driver expertly maneuvers them around bombed out buildings and in between shells of what had once been tanks and ambulances and when they get to the church, Gene's heart leaps into his throat.

Forgetting about Welsh, he jumps from the jeep and stands in the entryway to what used to be the aid station but he can't get in because the ceiling is on the floor at his feet. He doesn't want it to be true, but he knows she's gone. The one person who gave some semblance of normalcy to his life. Spotting a shock of blue amidst the rubble, he pulls out Renee's scarf, fingering it delicately and wishing he'd had a chance to touch it while it was still on her. 

\--------------------------

He stays longer than he should, but there are just so many wounded - every corner he turns there's a man with either bullet holes or gashes or burns - anything and everything imaginable. He can't leave until the dust has settled. 

The sun's peeking through the trees when he finally catches a ride back to the line. He's surprisingly not cold, wonders if it's the warmth of helping the wounded or maybe it's the blue fabric tucked in his bag, the spirit of a woman who was tired of working with her hands. Tired of blood and gore and the breathy sounds of men dying. 

He's jealous that her part is done while he has to keep going. 

Mist has settled into the trees when the jeep stops, and it takes Gene a second to remember which direction Easy is in. He gives a mumbled "thanks" to the driver before heading into the fog. 

He's close, can hear the soft sounds of men waking up from a hellish night, picks out Leibgott's voice bitching about the fog. 

_Can't see a goddamn thing... how the fuck are we supposed to fight in this shit..._

He stops to light a cigarette, hoping the blurriness will fade away with the rush of tobacco because he's got to wake the hell up.

A hand grabs his arm and he glances up, half expecting a Kraut but instead it's Captain Nixon. 

The blurriness fades just a bit when that warm hand touches him. 

"Captain?"

He stares at Gene with a measured look and nods towards the rear. "C'mon, Doc."

Gene wants to ask what's wrong because he doesn't see anything obvious, but perhaps it isn't Nixon who needs the help. 

_Please,_ he thinks, _don't let it be Winters - not after last night._

Nixon leads the way through the fog, glancing back every few steps like he's making sure Gene isn't making a run for it. The idea of running hasn't entered his mind - it's too much work. 

They don't stop until they're alone, not even the sounds of the quiet chattering of men breaking the silence. Gene's not sure how far back they've gone but it's far enough to feel like they're alone in the world. 

"Captain-"

Nixon grabs hold of his shoulders and pulls Gene behind a tree, pushing him roughly against the bark and making him drop his cigarette. For a second he thinks Nixon's going to punch him, get back at him for his shoddy work on Welsh's leg, and he doesn't resist - he deserves it. 

But instead of more violence Nixon presses himself against Gene and whispers, "I won't let you choke, Doc," lips moving against the hollow of Gene's ear and sending cold shivers across his body. 

He doesn't have time to think about what Nixon is saying before he's being kissed. 

Gene can't think in complete sentences. He let's Nixon do whatever the hell it is he's doing because he doesn't have the strength to push him away. 

It would take a pack of wild dogs to drag it out of him, but Nixon's kiss is like a breath of fresh air. He tries to concentrate on the lips and the tongue that's assaulting his mouth instead of the fact it's a man doing the assaulting, but the days' old growth of beard rubbing against his cheeks is hard to ignore. 

Halfheartedly he tries to push Nixon away but the man ignores the hands on his chest and instead shoves Gene harder against the tree, using his hips to keep him in place. 

"Sir-" Gene tries to speak but Nixon uses his mouth to keep him quiet and when a leg is shoved in between his, he gasps. 

His hands seem to have a mind of their own because Gene finds them gripping Nixon's hips, holding on tight as the man starts thrusting carefully against him. It's mind blowing, what's happening, and Gene can't stop it. 

He ignores the little voice in his head that suggests he doesn't want to stop because he hasn't felt this alive in so damn long. 

Nixon's words - _I won't let you choke_ \- take on a new meaning. 

Lips trail across his jaw as the thrusting grows harder and now Nixon is dropping to his knees and pulling at the buttons on Gene's trousers. 

"What are you doin'?" Gene whispers, though it comes out more like a whine. It's a stupid question, but really, he should've asked _why._

Nixon's warm mouth engulfs him, and Gene's head hits the tree behind him. He can't believe this is happening. It could be a dream but for the first time in a long damn while, the world isn't blurry and unfocused. 

Moving without thinking, Gene's hands lift Nixon's helmet, drops it to the ground, and he slides his fingers through thick, dark hair. He pulls at the strands and Nixon moans around his dick. 

"Jesus Christ," Gene whispers, grabbing fistfuls of hair. It's gotta hurt, the way he's pulling, but Nixon doesn't seem to care. And Gene can't stop because he's losing his mind in a really, really good way. 

It's embarrassing how little time it takes before Gene's about to burst. "Captain... Sir, I'm-" He tries to pull Nixon off his dick but Nixon stays where he is, sucking harder, and then the world goes white.

Gene shakes from exertion, shock, pleasure. He's reeling from too many emotions, things he hasn't felt in months, and he looks down in awe as Nixon tucks him back in and buttons his trousers up. 

Then Nixon's on his feet and he's crowding Gene against the tree again, rutting against his leg. 

Their lips meet in a clash of teeth and Gene groans - he can taste himself in Nixon's mouth and he wants it to be disgusting but it makes him groan helplessly instead. One hand slides up the Captain's back and into his hair while the other grasps at Nixon's ass, helping him get off. 

Nixon pushes against Gene harder and harder and the insane idea to return the favor hits. Gene scrambles against him, says "Captain" in a voice that sounds so low, and snakes his hand down to the bulge in Nixon's trousers. 

Foreheads resting together and breaths mingling, Gene maneuvers his way into Nixon's pants and wraps his hand around a hard dick. Nixon pulls in a sharp breath at the first touch and Gene wishes his hands weren't so cold. 

They kiss every few seconds, eyes closed because Gene figures that looking at Nixon will make what they're doing real. Nixon's making soft noises in his throat every time Gene's fingers pull and his dick grows harder, like stone covered in velvet. 

"Look at me," Nixon whispers as he moves his hips in time with Gene's hand. When Gene doesn't open his eyes because they've somehow glued themselves shut, Nixon puts both hands on the tree, blocking Gene in. "Look at me, Eugene."

This time he looks and he has to gulp back the moan that threatens to come out because Nixon's eyes are dark and heavy and full of something Gene hasn't seen in a long time. He tightens his grip, and Nixon throws his head back, coming hard all over Gene's fingers. 

"Christ, Doc," Nixon murmurs, body trembling. He leans in and kisses Gene, hard. 

"Sir, I-"

"Don't," he says softly, hands coming up to cup Gene's face. "I won't let you choke, Eugene."


End file.
